“Why?” she asked. She wanted to ask “to do what after they had her?” but the horrific things her mind came up frightened the curiosity right out of her.
“I do not know yet, but I will soon,” he swore savagely.
The way he stood away from her as he spoke, barely meeting her eye, Rahina knew there was more—something worse. “Say it, say what it is that you aren’t wanting to say.”
With his back to her now, she watched as his whole body stiffened, steeling himself for the news, before turning and facing her with a stony expression.
"I told you, in the beginning, I had enemies, I told you that you did not fit in my life. I ignored my instincts, and I nearly lost you because of it,” scrubbing his face with both hands, Roman sounded angry but desperate. “I cannot have you if I can't keep you safe.”
“What are you saying?” Standing up in alarm, Rahina stood rigidly on unsteady legs by the bed, staring at him. "Are you serious are you telling me you want it to be over between us, just like that? I thought you weren't afraid of anything. I nearly get kidnapped and you are trying to tell me it's over, you're being a coward right now!”
“Yes,” he roared, turning to face her. His gray eyes practically glowed with emotion. Every muscle in his body was drawn tight, ready to snap as he gave her a mad desperate look. “If that makes me a coward, then I am a fucking coward, Rahina! I couldn't survive it. I cannot stomach the thought of losing you or any children we may have. I would lose myself, Rahina.” Breathing deeply, she could see his chest rise and fall with quick ragged breaths as he lost himself in the terror of his thoughts. Shaking his head, he continued, his eyes distant and chaotic. “Even I cannot comprehend the monster, I would become if that were to happen. But I do know I would hurt them a hundred times worse. I do not want to be that man, but I would. I would be that monster for you, Rahina.”
Tears stung at her eyes at the revelation of his fears, it made her angry and made her love him all the more. "I'm not asking you to do that. I just want to be with you."
"I thought I could keep you safe," Roman whispered, seemingly to himself. He wasn't even listening to her now; he was lost in his swirling thoughts. She could see the fury rolling off of him as he worked himself into another rage. Glancing at his watch, he looked up to her, and she knew at that moment he was going to leave again. "I need to find answers."
"So, what are you saying? Do you no longer want to be with me?" the words sounded off and broken, as the urge to cry threatened her mid-sentence. "You're just going to toss me aside now?"
He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, she could read the pain in his eyes as he struggled with the decision and she suddenly felt very hollow.
"I'm tired of chasing after you to love me,” she said in a defeated whisper.
"Rahina," he growled stomping back to her and capturing the sides of her face, kissing her. "You are not listening to what I am saying, I want you safe."
"Then why…"
A notification sound chimed from his phone, interrupting her. Snatching it from his pocket, Roman read the message on the screen with a deadly focus that seemed to chill the air around them.
"We will talk about this later," Roman’s tone was raw and gruff as he shoved the phone in his pocket and turned away towards the door.
"Where are you going?!" she called out, not wanting to leave it like this.
He answered without looking back. "To listen to a man's prayers for a swift death."
Everything around her seemed to be crumbling. The dream she had been living in with Roman for months now had been shattered. It seemed unreal. Lowering herself to the bed, she stared at the carpet at her feet, and Rahina felt her hands begin to shake as she replayed his words in her head. Forty-eight hours ago, she had everything she could have ever dreamed of forty eight hours ago and now—it was gone. He didn’t want her anymore.
"Rahina," the soft whisper of her name next to her pulled her from her trance. Looking up, she saw Dimitri's worried face. She hadn’t even noticed him entering the room or sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her.
“He said he wanted me to leave,” tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision for a moment before she blinked them away to fall down her cheeks.
Dimitri made a tsking noise with his tongue in disgust and glared hard at the doorway to the bedroom. “Yes,” he replied grimly. “I heard. That dumb bastard.”
“I…I don’t want to leave,” staring down to her hands in her lap, Rahina didn’t bother wiping the tears from her face. “I love him, I just want him to love me back.”
“Oh, he loves you that is without a doubt, the psychotic bastard is just afraid for the first time in his adult life.”
That sat together in silence, minutes stretching by between them but Rahina barely noticed nor minded. Her world was broken, nothing felt like it mattered anymore.
"You know, Rahina," Dimitri turned to her, giving her a slow smile. “The first time I saw you in your father's office, I thought you were quite stunning, but at that time it didn’t matter did it? Your eyes were completely focused on Roman. However—it seems things are different now." Reaching over, he cupped both of her hands, which were folded on her lap. “Come with me, and I promise I'll make it all better."
~*~
Sitting in the wingback chair, Roman twirled the machete by its point on the rug. The man in the bed slept quietly, peacefully even, completely unaware of his world about to change. Roman didn't hold back his sneer of disgust as he examined the room in the low light provided by the desk lamp. The sorry asshole had his room damn near professionally decorated to resemble some sort of upscale bachelor pad, with his mahogany desk, damask wallpaper, and leather loveseat. But there was nothing the asshole could do that would change the fact that he was still a sniveling piece of shit living in the room he grew up in his parents’ house.
The man turned over in the bed, settling in comfort, still deep asleep.
Roman stared at the man. All of this was because of him. The memory of Rahina's terrified scream replayed itself over and over again in his mind, reminding him without mercy how easily he could have lost her. Her scream nearly stopped his heart, and he was more than sure some of his hair turned gray at the sound. Only his unnatural rage that propelled him through the city streets at mach speed with Mosca hot on his trail, calling in every man they had, kept Roman from losing his sanity. The unhinged fury focused him as he reached her dance studio first, shooting the guy waiting in the lobby in the head before taking the stairs five at a time. The door to the second floor sitting slightly ajar alerted him. Instinctively, he slipped through the door just as the man cornered Rahina. The rage that had been building to unspeakable levels reached its limit within him and took over. Roman could hardly remember thinking, he could just remember his body moving under its own accord as he lifted and swung the machete. Thankfully, Dimitri was there, although he was lost in a sea of overwhelming red Roman knew deep down, he didn't want Rahina to see him like that. He didn’t want her to see him happily mutilate the man, covering himself and a good portion of the room with blood.
Mosca had captured the third man and had the man ready to talk by the time Roman came to see him. Covered in his friend's blood, Roman stared at the man who was already missing an eye and a few fingers, thanks to Mosca; the man begged for mercy as he explained that he and his friends were contacted and paid to take the dancer and rough her up a bit before dropping her near a hospital. Roman didn't bother camouflaging his reaction to the man's intentions for Rahina. The words were his nightmare, it served him right to hear them. His own arrogance caused this. He should have protected her better, assigned her a guard, had men at her studio, something—anything.
The man told him everything before Roman removed his arms, his legs, and finally his head. And now here he was sitting in the room of the man who paid for Rahina's abduction. Standing up from the chair, Roman shut his eyes for a moment as he recalled the pain in Rahina's eyes before he left
. You will only get her killed, he repeated to himself for the millionth time. Having her leave was the most logical decision. But fuck if it didn't kill him. Leaning his head back, Roman stared past the ceiling and tried to will the pain in his chest to stop. If she left, he may as well shoot himself in the head. Life without her would be worse than meaningless it would be purgatory.
Slowly, Roman looked back down at the man in the bed and held out the machete to his side. Mosca stepped forward from the shadowed corner of the room and took the long blade. Flexing both hands, Roman felt the sick excitement for what he was going to do rise within him before he lunged. The moment his knee touched the bed, Roman had his right hand clasped over the man's mouth and his left arm barring across his chest.
Dev Gorshal's eyes went wide in confused terror as Roman pushed his much heavier body against the slim man, trapping him in his bed. Dev's struggles were worthless against the much larger man, but he tried in vain regardless. Jerking his thrashing head still, Roman took a steady breath controlling the maddening urge to break the man's neck here and now. No, dear God no, Roman wouldn't do that, he had so many fucking plans for Dev it nearly made his dick hard at the thought.
Leaning more of his weight against the terrified man, until the pillow around Dev's face nearly swallowed him, Roman put his face inches from his.
"So, what was the plan?" he whispered with a slow smile as he basked in the sight of the horror settling into Dev's eyes. Roman could feel the man start to shake beneath him. "Get her captured, beaten, maybe raped, and then tossed near a hospital so someone could find her fast, and then you could come along and say I told you so." Roman ignored the muffled sounds beneath the weight of his crushing hand. "Or did you plan to convince her to marry you and play the consoling hero?"
More desperate sounds came from Dev along with attempts to shake his head. Roman just grinned.
"It does not matter," he whispered gleefully in Dev's ear. "Because she is safe and you are so very fucked."
Without a sound, he and Mosca gagged and bound Dev Gorshal and handed him out the bedroom window to Sergei and Ivan where they waited patiently. Thirty minutes later, Mikhail was opening the door to the cargo container for their arrival. Mikhail's shipping docks were a multi-purpose operation, two of the perks being privacy and long-term storage. Installed fluorescent lights flickered on above them as Roman easily drug the bound and whimpering man to the end of the long rectangle cargo container. Attaching Dev’s bound hands to a chain attached to the wall, Roman stood back and spread both arms.
"Welcome home," he announced cheerfully.
Mosca stood at the door of the container as Mikhail walked in with Isaac, Mikhail's on-call doctor.
"I can't remember, have you ever done this before?" Mikhail asked matter-of-factly as he stared objectively at Dev as if he was examining a lab rat.
Feeling the unbridled excitement for what was to come, Roman gave Mikhail an eager smile as he shook his head. "No, I am quite well versed in torture as you know, but this here," he waved to the ridge-lined metal container around them. "This is a work of art that I have yet to master."
Mikhail nodded; his face expressionless as ever. "Isaac will be here for you whenever you need. He will essentially keep the bastard alive while you—do the opposite."
Dev's cries and struggles against the chains renewed at Mikhail's words.
Roman gave Mikhail a thoughtful look. "How long do you think I can keep him?"
This time Isaac answered, in a professional tone as he observed Dev. "The longest we have gone was a year and two weeks."
"You hear that," Roman looked to Dev, who looked close to passing out from fear. "You and I are going to try to beat that number."
Roman laughed aloud, and Mikhail even chuckled as Dev went slack against his chains in a faint.
"Poor dumb bastard," Mikhail muttered as he turned to leave with Isaac.
Roman stood there for a few moments longer contemplating if he should bring Dev back to consciousness or not. Memories of Rahina's sad face as he left her earlier that night resurfaced, however, and all the excitement he felt for spending hours hurting this piece of shit left him. He needed to get back home. The urge to hold her to him, to press his face into her soft inviting breasts and inhale her scent was becoming a thrumming call in his veins. Turning off the lights, he left Dev in the darkness leaving him for another day. Now all he wanted was to go home.
His home, however, was empty.
Standing in his closet, Roman tried to will himself to calm down. Empty hangers and shelves from her side of the closet stared back at him. Her toiletries from the bathroom were also missing. Every trace of her was gone, except for the yellow roadster parked in his garage with the key laying in the seat. Walking downstairs, he caught Mosca's worried eye as he stood by the kitchen counter holding a tablet.
"I found this on the couch," handing him the tablet, Mosca took a step back, signaling to Roman that whatever he was about to see was going to piss him off.
The screen of the tablet was paused on an image of Rahina handing her bags to one of Dimitri's newly appointed enforcers. Pushing play, Roman watched with growing fury as Dimitri escorted Rahina out the front door with an arm around her waist.
"There is more sir," Mosca supplied grimly before reaching over and flicking the screen to a handwritten note.
Your loss is my gain, brother.
Rereading the words Roman stared at the bright screen for a few more moments before looking up to Mosca's wary expression. "Call and get the jet ready to leave within the hour."
It took four hours to reach Las Vegas. Each minute of it Roman tried to stem the nauseating feeling of betrayal and rage. He knew Dimitri well, and he knew his protégé took pure enjoyment riling people up. This was all just a game for him, one big joke. Knowing that should have calmed him, but a needling sense of insecurity still found him when he remembered Rahina's sad face when he left. The footage of her walking out of their home with Dimitri felt like hot knives being stuck in his back. Roman had to find them, he had to shoot Dimitri in the motherfucking head and chain Rahina to his side.
The hotel Dimitri stayed in was in the middle of the Las Vegas strip. Getting access to the private floor, Dimitri was located on took only a few threats and Mosca punching a man in the throat. Stepping off the elevator, both he and Mosca froze at the sounds from the door directly in front of him. Sounds of feminine moans and male grunts echoed past the door.
It felt like Roman’s world had slipped out from under his feet. A ringing noise sounded in his ear as everything else was muted out. Roman couldn't hear if Mosca said anything to him as he swiped the key card and kicked open the door. The simmering rage that had been with him since he boarded the jet reached its boiling point at the sight in front of him, however.
Long beautiful black hair, copper naked flesh, rode on top and astride the pale body of his ex-captain. Roman pulled the gun from his holster at his chest. He would kill them both, he whispered. Or did he yell it, he wasn’t sure? One second he was standing at the door frozen in horror as he watched the woman he loved grind herself on top of the man he considered a friend and the next he was grabbing a handful of the long black hair he had come to cherish with one hand, and snatching it back.
The unfamiliar scream didn't seem to register in Roman's mind, but the unfamiliar face of the woman did. Immediately, his brain put together the facts of the ruse and Roman aimed his gun down at the man on the bed and squeezed the trigger.
Ripping from is loosened grip, the naked woman ran screaming past Mosca and disappearing down the hall. Having rolled and hopped from the bed with the perfect amount of speed, Dimitri stood naked and staring at the smoking bullet hole in his pillow with a laugh.
"Fuck, that was close," Dimitri laughed, his eyes wide with adrenaline.
Roman aimed the gun at Dimitri's chest. "Where is she?"
"So, I take it you realized you made a mistake?"
Roman said nothing, he simply
cocked the gun.
Giving a defeated sigh, Dimitri raised both hands in defeat and answered. "She is in the penthouse suite."
Roman turned and left.
"You can thank me later!" Dimitri called out with a laugh.
~*~
The room Dimitri got her was something she had only seen in travel blogs. Four bedrooms, three and a half baths, two living rooms, a private lap pool located on the balcony that overlooked downtown Las Vegas, and a private butler. An actual real life, living breathing human being dedicated to her room alone; whose sole purpose was to make all of her needs come to fruition. Granted, the poor man had to pass through the inspection of six of Dimitri’s men who guarded the outside of her room. Dimitri had explained to her that this hotel was now his since he took over as boss in Las Vegas by command of Vladimir, head of their organization, and by Roman’s recommendation. When he explained it, Rahina got the distinct impression Dimitri hadn’t been expecting Roman’s recommendation. The funny thing was, Dimitri in her opinion, was actually harder to read than Roman. One was imposing and terrifying while the other was something altogether creepy at times. Dimitri’s mood seemingly could turn on a dime, making it hard to tell if the man was ever being sincere. But as they flew in on the red-eye flight from Boston, Rahina could tell Dimitri’s sincerity in that moment was genuine. He assured her countless times despite her doubts about his plan that everything would work out and to just wait and see. It wasn’t until he escorted her to her room did, she finally believe him.
His Smile: A Mafia Romance Page 30
